


Days at The Piano

by brinkofeternity



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: M/M, Please Don't Take This Seriously, this is a joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 01:33:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinkofeternity/pseuds/brinkofeternity
Summary: Georg was sure he was into his busty piano teacher... that was, until Hanschen Rilow came along.





	1. Where's Hanschen?

After a long day of getting lectured by Herr Sonnenstich, Georg ended his long, stressful days by going into his piano lessons with his lusty, busty piano teacher -- Fräulein Großebüstenhalter. It was a blessing and a curse for the curly-headed boy to work with the large-chested female. Every single time she leaned against his shoulder, and when she placed her hands on top of his to place his fingertips in the correct placements - god, he got flustered even thinking about it. 

All throughout the day, something felt... off... to Georg. He just couldn't tell what. It took him about three quarters of the day to finally find out. Where in the earth was Hanschen? 

"Herr Rilow, then." He heard this instructor speak out, expecting the attractive, short, blonde boy to stand and speak out his sentence in Latin. Georg turned around, and Hanschen was nowhere in sight. This was odd - Hanschen, who had never missed a day of school in his life, was suddenly just... gone? It gave Georg some kind of feeling in the pit of his stomach. Was it sadness? Or pity? No... why would he feel that way about _Hanschen_? There was no need for him to miss the shorter boy, he was just a gremlin to him, afterall. 

"Herr Rilow?"

"He's not here, Herr Sonnenstich." Ernst forced himself to speak out. It saddened the tall brunette that his boyfriend was not there. He had no idea why, but he knew that now he didn't have a person to walk him home - which was the highlight of his day. He loved when Hanschen would walk him home, and their meetings at the vineyard, and just -- god, Hanschen Rilow was so perfect.

Georg shrugged the idea of Hanschen being gone off. It was not his problem, after all. He and Hanschen were not friends in the slightest, why should he care?

Moritz, who was asleep once more, was forced to read Hanschen's line, along with his own. Moritz was struck with the switch for sleeping in class, and Georg zoned out after that. His mind was elsewhere. 

Georg imagined going to his piano lessons, and he imagine himself striking the wrong note, in which he would get scolded for. After he got scolded, however, she would lean over his shoulder to help him fix the note. He continued to let his mind wander to the dark places of his mind, he thought of her on his lap, doing everything that was oh so rude and wrong. Before he knew it, Herr Sonnenstich was releasing the class, and his fellow classmates were putting their chairs on top of their tables. 

'Well. I'm off,' he saw Otto sign, in which he saw Ernst sign a 'me too,' and begin to follow him. That just left Georg, Moritz, and Melchior in the classroom.

"Melchior, Moritz." Georg nodded, attempting to rid himself of the classroom as soon as possible. He was so close to the door, until he heard Melchior speak.

"Home to Bach?" Georg shook his head.

"Fräulein Großebüstenhalter will not be kept waiting!"


	2. Oh, There he is.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wink wonk ;))

Georg practically ran home, excited for his piano lesson. Fräulein Großebüstenhalter should be sitting in his family room right about now, awaiting his arrival. 

Alas, he finally returned home. "Mama, I'm here!" He said as he entered. He didn't know why he bothered to say so, though. His mother hated him anyways. Georg removed his shoes and entered the family room, expecting to see Fräulein Großebüstenhalter sitting on the piano stool. What Georg saw instead left him in complete shock. There was a short blonde sitting there, plunking on the keys oh so effortlessly, creating a beautiful, angelic sound of the piano echo throughout the walls of his home. Wait a minute, was that...

_Hanschen Rilow?_

"H-Hanschen?" The boy with glasses spoke, his cheeks turning red. "W-what are you doing here?"

Hanschen turned to him, a charismatic smirk curled against his lips. "Hello, Georg. Are you ready for your lesson?"

Georg was in complete awe. Why was Hanschen here instead of Fräulein Großebüstenhalter? And why did he not mind that it was Hanschen? "Uh... um... sure..." Georg sat down on the stool next to Hanschen, glancing nervously to his right. "Alright, Georg. Start by doing your normal warm-ups for me, okay?" Hanschen instructed. The opposing boy took a deep breath, and began to work on the warm ups Fräulein Großebüstenhalter had usually gone over with him. The sound was merely atrocious, Hanschen used every muscle in his body to attempt to not cringe at the noise. 

"Georg, how about we do this?" Hanschen suggested. The blonde stood up from next to Georg, and stood behind him. Georg's breath hitched in the back of his throat, and his face turned cherry red. His heart began to pound louder than a drum, why was he feeling this way? Hanschen then leaned over his shoulder and placed his smaller hands on top of Georg's, his hot breath exhaling on the slide of Georg's neck. 

'Oh god...' Georg thought to himself, trying to not let a whimper escape his lips. Why did this make him feel even better than when Fräulein Großebüstenhalter was teaching him? He then slipped into his same fantasy from earlier, only a few details changed. Now Hanschen was in place of his regular teacher, the smaller boy on top of his lap, moving his lap ever so slightly against his as they passionately kissed.

"Georg." 

"... What?"

"I said, play the Prelude in C minor." 

"Y-yes, sir."

"Wait a minute, what did you call me?"

"... Sir..." Georg admitted, his cheeks turning red.

"Call me that again," Hanschen demanded, feeling the heat pool in the pit of his stomach at the name. 

"Yes, sir."

The rest of that day was history. It is like the Fight Club, no one speaks about it.


End file.
